


I Used to Love You

by spun809



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Dean Winchester, Angst, Cheating Dean Winchester, Dark, Edited, F/M, Implied drunk driving, WIP, drunk!Dean, mentions of nudity, rewritten
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-05 13:19:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10308896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spun809/pseuds/spun809
Summary: All you want is to get some distance from your past, you need to do it because you want desperately to go running back. To the man who cheated, ruined your life. And when he shows up anyway?





	1. Chapter 1

Throwing your car in reverse, the last thing you saw out of your side view mirror was Dean. His mouth was a hard line and both of his fists were clenched. It was the stance of a man who knew how to fight, however, this was a monster he couldn’t stab or decapitate. You should have been the one looking for a fight, but you were just tried. Driving away from the bunker, it started to hit you, your Dean, had done this to you.

In the window you could see your own vague reflection, your hair was tangled from where he had grabbed you. A shadow around your left eye, was what you knew was going to be a massive bruise, from where he had landed a blow as you had tried to get away from him. Beyond the insubstantial image you guessed there was more. You tried, failing miserably, not to think about it.

After he beat you though, he stopped trying to chase you, and you had been able to escape. He spewed his broken apologies afterwards, “baby I’m sorry, I love you.” Yeah fucking right. Those were the last words you were ever going to hear him say, it had been almost more devastating than the marks, the fact that it was the best he could come up with. Proving to you that there was no future with him. There might have been more, you knew that, but it was too much to even think of. Part of you was so finished, but the idea that maybe this was all just some huge mistake was too tempting.

Feeling tiredness start to wash over you, you couldn’t help but think about what started this, you had been searching for a way to cure him. Another attempt to pull the only person you had ever loved out of the fire he kept putting himself into. When you had first met him, the quality of sacrifice had made you swoon for him, here was a man who always but others first, you thought. Now, it just had you feeling worn out, you realized it wasn't an act of saving people he loved, it was his own desperate bid for escape. Even from you, who he was supposed to love, he didn't appreciate the attempts you had been making to save him instead he resented you. When you had left to go with Sam, a quick salt and burn no big deal, you had seen this look as you left that told you he didn't want your help. A part of it didn't seem real though, even while driving and feeling the burn of exertion in your legs from the fight the two of you had when you returned and drama ensued. 

Two days ago when you had left, you didn't have the foresight you did now, here driving, Dean still had the Mark, and you both were letting him stay at home to keep him on hiatus from hunting. Walking back in you were anxious to check in on him, you knew he was probably just sitting in his room all pissed off about being copped up for days, you were excited though too. He might have been acting off kilter ever since his little power transference with Cain, you still loved and missed him despite the attitude shift, but as you got closer to his room you heard moaning. The animalistic sound had panic washing through you. Breaking in to a run you paused right at the door, this time the moan was louder and unmistakable, making a new kind of dread take the panics place. You had heard it countless times as he had thrust inside of you and whispered praise against your body. Again a moan, but it was breathier and female, part of you resisted the urge to fling open the door, not needing to physically see the evidence of your soulmate throwing everything away.

Sadly with Sam hanging around, bound to hear the same noises, you knew you should confront Dean first.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Dean started to push the shocked faced, naked, girl off of him. You felt sick. Every inch of your body was aching as you saw him trying to find something to cover himself. The girl was motionless, statuesque, as she cowered underneath the comforter. Its familiar red tone, looking like a heart as she moved slightly. It was under that blanket where the two of you had spent days sprawled out watching movies and eating junk food. You couldn’t confront him, you couldn’t even speak. Instead, you turned and ran towards the door that would lead you out of the bunker.

Sam, he had been your downfall and your savior, if he hadn’t have been there maybe you would have just kept running. Then again, maybe Dean would have caught you sooner. Sam was so good at being the calming force between you and Dean, every bickering match, he was there trying to help smooth things over. When he saw you running, tears causing your face to glisten, he stepped in front of you to stop your exit. As you tried to get around him, he pinned your arms at your side keeping you still.

“Hey are you alright? Is Dean OK?” He ducked his head, to get you to look at him, but you avoided his eyes.

“Sam he was,” you tried to catch a breath, “with another chick.”

“No, he wouldn’t do that, there is no way.”

You weren’t sure what he would do anymore, ever since he had come back from being a demon, he was trying to cure this weird itch he had, maybe he was just trying to fuck the violence away.

“Maybe not the real him, but I saw her, I saw the two of them together.”

Just then Dean came panting into the room, “babe, I promise it was nothing.” At your lack of response he added the obvious, “it was a mistake, please just talk to me.”

As Sam moved to face his brother, you were left staring at the door but you had no desire to turn and watch this anymore. You thought about just walking out, the two of them could play out whatever fight they wanted, but you were indecisive now. Each choice you made seeming to have a consequence you weren’t ready for.

“Dean what the fuck did you do?” Sam’s back shook with rage you could feel him bumping against you, in a way he was a human shield, but you were not this women who let men fight her battles. It’s what had you finally confronting Dean.

“Tell him,” you said as you stepped right in his space, ignoring the way Sam’s hand scrabbled down your arm to get you to stop, “tell your brother how you were fucking some random bar whore, while we were out trying to save you.” 

The tears were gone now, replaced by a seething anger, you wanted him to break down and apologize.You noticed the way he looked down at his arm, glancing at the mark, but only a split second later he was yanking you down with a fistful of your hair.

“I’m so tired,” he said while dragging you to the other side of the room, “of all of this attitude, your so perfect aren’t you,” he knocked you against the ground making your elbow crack as it hit, “going around saving people.” 

“Get off me, what the fuck?” You were trying to scream the words, but were struggling with the pain of him pulling you, the way it jerked your neck.

You kicked your feet, feeling them sliding uselessly, the truth was Dean was stronger than you. Sure you knew how to fight, could probably take down something small on your own, but you weren’t a match to his training. When he stopped moving, you used the chance to pull away from him, looking at his clenched fist you could see strands of your hair.

You started to turn on him the second you were up, “I’m out of here Winchester.”

He hooked the back of your shirt, spinning you, he cocked his fist and before you could try and duck it collided with your face. He only got in one good hit, you felt it connect high on your cheek and black spots tinged your vision. Countering one way you knew would give you an edge, you moved closer to him, and since he was caught off guard by your sudden closeness you were able to raise your knee into his crotch. When he doubled over, you brought the both of you to the floor, but you were only scuffling a little longer before Sam was able to intervene. It had been an eternity for you but afterwards, you figured it had only lasted a couple of minutes.

Picking you up off the floor, Sam pushed Dean in the center of the chest, causing him to falter as he lunged for you. Then, as quick as he had started his outburst, he calmed, looking from Sam to you.

“Babe I’m sorry, I love you.”

“No your not sorry,” you had to say it while you had the chance, “you don’t love me Dean, the mark, it was an excuse. You've been waiting for this.”

Rushing out of the bunker, you needed gone, like yesterday. You wished you could thank Sam, or tell him goodbye, but you knew the time for that was past. All of your belongings were tainted with the memory of Dean, so that really didn’t matter anyway, leaving it would help you move on. As you opened your car door, you could see Sam standing next to his brother, looking at him with disgust, Dean had his eyes glued on you.

That’s how you ended up driving away, watching him, as he was watching you. Noticing the windshield was starting to get cloudy, the cold air outside and your warm breath inside, creating a fog on the glass. You were grateful not to see yourself in the window anymore. The buzzing of your phone had you turning on the stereo, wanting to try and drown out the fact that it was Dean, he would want to talk and explain how it was all the mark, but you knew if he pressed too much you would drive back. Tell him how you would fix him and fix the two of you.

Instead you kept turning up the radio, letting the slightly fuzzy music wash through you, and you kept driving and willing yourself not to turn around.


	2. Chapter 2

_The buzzing of your phone had you turning on the stereo wanting to try and drown out the fact that it was Dean, he would want to talk and explain how it was all the mark, but you knew if he pressed too much you would drive back. Tell him how you would fix him and fix the two of you._

_Instead you kept turning up the radio, letting the slightly fuzzy music wash through you, and you kept driving and willing yourself not to turn around._

Jerking your head back up you tried to focus on the road, the lines were hypnotic, blinking past at even increments. Your eyelids felt heavy, and your were straining to keep them up. Other than the occasional squat concrete rest stop, where you paused to pee and stretch your cramped legs, you had been driving for two days. The lack of sleep was creating such a problem, you kept going blank every thirty or forty miles, the shaking of your tires hitting the shoulder or the blare of horn pulling you back to consciousness. 

Off the right you saw a Motel 6 and pulled over, normally you didn’t stay at big box places like that, but you were on your own and it felt right somehow. There was no mom and pop charm, as you strolled into the lobby everything from the computer at the desk, to the pictures hanging on the wall, gave you the impression that a 100 miles away someone was standing in the same exact space, it was almost like a parallel universe. 

Climbing up the stairs to your room, you clung to the railing, doing your best to make sure you didn’t stumble backwards from exhaustion. Though as you swiped your way inside, you knew sleep would be hard tonight. There was slightly off smell as you stood by the bed, and inhaling deeper trying to find the source you were mortified that it was you, apparently no shower and cramped spaces meant you reeked of stale sweat and exhaust. 

Before making your way to the shower, you found an outlet for your phone charger, lucky for you, there was a spare you kept in the glove box. Besides your dirty clothes, you had left all your possessions back at home. The bunker. You fought to remind yourself a second later, it wasn’t your home anymore. 

As soon as the water streaming over you had started to chill, you climbed out and wrapped a towel, it was bigger and softer than you were used to, around your middle and grabbed another to ring out your hair. Picking up your phone you could see the little battery icon was showing a full green now, and you willed yourself to power it on, you kept watching as the home screen started to bounce little notices about voicemails and texts, and the previous missed calls. 

The speaker made the voice you knew sound even deeper and slightly rasping, “please come home, I want to explain.” 

“It’s been hours, call me, I’m worried.” 

Then, more desperate, “Your phone’s going straight to voicemail, I need you to call, I just want to know your safe.” 

You wiped a hand over your face, after all he had done, you couldn’t believe he was trying to play the concerned boyfriend card. He had lost that privilege when he hit you, when he let some other girl take your place in your bed. 

Intermixed were a few more messages from Sam and even one from Cas; it had you breaking your into your first smile in days, it was brief, his obvious stiffness at using a phone always used to make you laugh. You were torn because a part of you felt that you should let them know you were at least alive, not that Dean deserved the comfort, but Sam and Cas shouldn’t be forced to suffer for someone else’s mistake. 

Flicking to your recent calls you hit Sam’s number, it was cut off on the first ring, “where are you?” 

“Hiya Sammy,” regretting this choice instantly, you paused. Then, you forced yourself to keep talking, “I just wanted to let you know that I am still kicking around.” 

“We’ve been so worried y/n, calling you non-stop, after what happened how could you just run off?” 

Tiredness was creeping over you, “what should I have done, thanked him and crawled in bed with him? You were there, you saw what he did.” 

There was only silence, faint breathing let you know the line hadn’t gone dead. 

“I know,” he finally added, “it’s just I don’t like not knowing where you're at, I want to make sure your safe.” 

It wasn’t in you to tell him, you felt positive everyone was going to be much safer with you a 1000 miles away, because you missed them all so much already, even Dean. Part of you wanted to run back and just forget it ever happened, but your face was still battered, and as your shower attested to you were cut and sore from the recent encounter with your now ex. 

“…some of your stuff, if you are going to be gone awhile.” 

“What sorry, I was thinking about something I didn’t quite get that.” You pulled yourself back to focus on Sam and not how sorry you felt for yourself. 

“Can I bring you some of your stuff, clothes or books you might want?” His voice was pleading. 

You debated it and then looked at where your clothes were piled on the floor, you knew you needed at least clean underwear. Although you were weary about telling him where you were at, but after what happened, you felt he wouldn’t tell his brother. 

“Sure I am at the Motel 6 in Fayetteville, you can bring me some clothes,” and then gathering some fake enthusiasm, “that would be really helpful.” 

“Alright, I’ll leave as soon as I can, just stay put.” 

“See ya soon.” 

Dropping your towel you pulled down the comforter and cuddled up in the bed, it was big for just you, and the loneliness washed over you. Pulling the spare pillow against your bare chest, you tucked it under your chin, and tried to blank out your mind so you could sleep. 

The two days you had been stuck in this room, was starting to test your patients, there was nothing to do but shower, lay in bed, or flip through the cable. There were more channels than you typically had, but nothing was on. You had to keep putting on your stiff, smelly clothes, but you abandoned your panties the first night. Sam hadn’t called you back again, you wondered about that, but you tried not to worry too much telling yourself it just had to do with not alerting Dean to what he was going to do. 

The first rap on the door had you spaseming a little at the shock, you pulled back on your disgusting jeans and t-shirt, and went to open the door. Feeling grateful that Sam was going to be there to help you out. As soon as you had cracked it open, all you needed was to see the brief flash of green eyes and soft blond hair, before you were slamming it shut. 

Dean’s work boot was wedged in the crack though, he wrapped his fingers around the edge of the door, and easily forced you to fall backwards. Allowing him to push into the room. He shut the two of you in together, and then stood silently, even though you were fuming at the fact that he would do this, you quickly took in his appearance. It was rough. There was an unfamiliar stubble along his jaw, and under his foggy eyes, were huge dark circles, not to mention that even at this distance he smelt like an alley behind a dive bar. 

Squaring your shoulders, you stopped retreating from him, “You need to leave, right now, you have no right to be here.” 

“Please, I just wanted to see you,” he was closing the distance, his hands could have brushed your face when he stopped, “I had to see you.” 

“Are you kidding me Dean?” You tried to remain passive or at least disinterested but you were being gripped by hysteria, “look at me,” you gestured towards your face. 

Then he was on you, biting his grip into your arms, shaking you a little. Turning to look at where his hands were placed, you could see the mark standing out clear as ever, the angry red welt which, was supposed to be to blame. 

“I can’t lose you y/n, I was stupid, but that wasn’t me.” With every word he spoke, the scent of liquor assaulted you, he was even slurring a little. A part of you was amazed in spite of yourself, it seemed impossible at this point that he would even be able to get this drunk.

Rolling your shoulders, you dislodged him from you, and he dropped his arms to his side. He squinted at you a little, like maybe you were a mirage that was going to waver out of existence. Sighing you turned towards the bed and sat down, his eyes were on you, the heat of his gaze making you aware before you even turned back to him. Patting the place next to you, he grinned at the invitation, reminding you of the first time you had cooked him a burger. Bringing it to him on a paper plate that had gone soggy from the warmth of the food, but it was the same look of pure elation, he thought you were forgiving him. 

As he faced you, he was so close you could see the light freckles he had, you forced out words you didn’t want to mean, “I’m not ready to forgive you, every time I see you, all I can see is the way you were looking at her.” 

“There’s time, I am going to help you and Sam, together we’ll get this thing off me.” 

He’s head bumped against your shoulder. It was becoming clear to you, he was too drunk to even understand what you were saying. “Dean, how did you know where I was?” 

“Phone.” He didn’t elaborate, he looked on the verge of blacking out. 

Though, if he hadn’t found out from Sam, that meant he was still coming, he could deal with Dean when he got here. Resigning yourself, you pushed against him, head tipping forward a little before you maneuvered him to lay down. You unlaced his boots so you could pull them off, and got him pushed to one side, he was pliant when you moved him, murmuring about how happy he was you were together. 

“Go to sleep ok?” You wouldn’t have let him stay but you got queasy thinking about how he must of been driving like this, and didn’t feel good about having him out on the road anymore tonight. 

Before no time he was snoring, mouth slightly open, he kept scooting closer to you. He was seeking out the warmth of your body, but you kept moving higher on the bed until your ass was on the pillow and your knees were drawn into your chest. The touch of him was making you want to dart of the room and not look back. It was too tempting, the thought of wrapping your arms around him, trying to find a way to fix everything. You swore you wouldn’t. So you waited, knowing eventually you would hear the knock that was going to take him away from you, and then maybe you could cry and start to move on.


	3. Chapter 3

Too many hours passed, you had gotten up so you could stretch away the numb tingling in your legs and then couldn't force yourself to be on the same bouncy square of softness that Dean was still laying on, eyes planted shut. There was nothing from Sam, no call, nada. It was unnerving and no amount of walking aimlessly around the suddenly cramped seeming room was helping your patients. When you dialed his number, there was no quick answer, instead it went straight to voicemail. Although you tried to convince yourself it had to be because he was too busy focusing on driving to this motel as quickly as possible, the words fell flat even in your mind. He always answered, you called again, and again. Eyes darting over to make sure his brother was still sleeping, not wanting to rile him up at the fact that Sam was coming here any moment. 

"Is he there?" At the sound of his voice you wanted to scream into the phone at him, but you knew instantly that something was wrong. 

"Obviously, what is going on?" You tried to keep yourself calm but the lack of sleep and the situation with Dean was putting you on edge. 

He was mostly silent for too long, save a harsh whistling to every breath he was taking, "He heard me on the phone with you, he knew I was going to meet up with you and while I was getting your stuff together, well let's just say that he made the fight between the two of you look like a pair of kindergartners." 

"So where are you, are you alright?" It wasn't like you didn't care, you wanted him to be ok, but it made you even more nervous about your own situation. Again you glanced over to Dean. Wasn't he lying on his back, no, you were just worried, he had to still be sleeping. Your chest hitched though, you weren't sure. 

"I was in the hospital, they got me patched up, then I started to head there. I am like, a mile away but I wanted to know if he was actually there before I possibly got ambushed." 

"He's asleep, come now." 

As you hung up the call, you went over to the window, pulling apart the blinds you glanced out over the parking lot. There was no signal of any activity so you let the strange, brushed pastel curtains drop, and waited for a car to pull up. Certain that with the high state of alertness you were in, you would hear it. Standing there, arms hugging your own chest to stop them from shaking, was disturbing. Inside, it felt like all your organs were wriggling around. In another life, you would have been asleep wrapped up in Dean's bulky arms, feeling the way his chest rocked against your back as the two of you were bundled up next to each other. Now, just being near him had the effect of seeming to pull out all of the air in the room you shared with him. Sam needed to deal with this, because you were at a loss. There was no over powering Dean, not you or Sam could do that, and you were becoming increasingly concerned that reasoning with him or the mark or, whatever, wasn't an option.

Loud, sputtering cracks reverberated outside, the unmistakable sound of a broken muffler, and you knew it had to be Sam. Sure enough, you phone started to vibrate against you leg and you fished it out of your pocket. "I am in room 106." You shut it again. Not caring about the fact that the knock would wake Dean. It was inevitable at this point. 

Three concise knocks had you answering the door, Dean appeared to be completely dead to the world, but you needed to focus on his brother. As you reveled more of the long haired Winchester, you realized with a rush of anger that he had been right, you had gotten off easy. Stitches peaked out from behind his curtain of hair, there was a dark blue bruise at the corner of his lip which was split open, blood seeming to still be oozing there. And that was only getting a good look at his face. As you stepped aside to let him in you noticed he was holding his side in a way which indicated that he most likely had broken ribs, you didn't know what you were going to be able to do about Dean. 

"Sammy, I thought I told you, I've got this." 

Dean's voice showed no signs that he had been supposedly sleeping merely seconds before, and it dawned on you that he had probably been faking it, maybe even before you had called his brother. 

You saw the younger brother strain at the attempt to straighten himself fully, doing his hunter-style best, to appear ready for a fight, even though you knew it was more likely he would have been knocked flat to the ground if the wind outside picked up. Dean was sitting up in the bed, no longer drunk and fumbling like he had been when he showed up, his back was stiff and reminded you of a scene from _The Exorcist_ right before the girls head started to spin around. For a while no one said anything and instead, they eyed each other, while you watched them watching each other. It was like even the slightest twitch was going to result in full out war. Sam was, of course, the one who finally tried to diffuse the situation. 

He walked up towards the bed, "Dean, you need to give her space, I told you that. Let's go." His tone was firm without sounding like an accusation, not that you felt Dean would see it that way. 

"Clearly, she wants me here, otherwise, she wouldn't have let me stay." 

You thought that was a joke, he knew you didn't want him there and that there was no letting him do anything, but it had you suddenly unsure. Maybe the part of you that wanted to ignore the fight, the whole person he had become in the last few months, did want him to stay. Focusing your ever-wandering attention back to the two of them you noticed they were still bickering about you and your desires. It was time to do your own rescuing of yourself, at least for the time being. 

"Dean," his eyes snapped onto you, "you shouldn't be here, I told you that, it is time for you to go." You ignored the way Sam's face was smug in your peripheral vision, knowing that this wasn't for, or about him. 

When the green eyes turned angry, and their owner leapt out of bed, you wanted nothing more than to run out of there. Forcing yourself to stand firm, pressing the heels of your feet against the stumpy gray carpet in an attempt not to take a step away from him, you leveled him with the stern look you could manage. Praying to yourself not to allow even a sliver of fear to show in your eyes, that otherwise, might betray you to him. When he stood directly in arms reach you could feel the way your flesh crawled at the dissonant image of the two Dean's you knew, the one you had built a life with and the one who had burned it to the ground and was standing just in front of you. You noticed that the version in the room right now, had the mark and it was glowing faintly. It illuminated his flesh, but also reflected in his iris' making them look more hazel than their real color, in that moment you knew that you truly didn't know this Dean at all. 

The anger and sadness ebbed away a little at the thought, it was easier to separate yourself from him this way, the man who did this was just another stranger. It hurt less this way. The fear lingered though and when he reached out to touch your face, the thought of how he had drug you across the floor of the bunker had you jumping back, betraying the calm demeanor you were working to present. 

The light coming from his forearm dropped out, leaving only the tired broken looking Dean, his face was twisted with anguish and with an even more real horror growing inside you, you knew he was going to start crying. Up until then, the last few moments you had completely blocked out the fact that Sam was standing a few feet away watch the scene of you and his brother but now, you actually wanted some privacy. Although you knew that it wasn't going to be a smart move you turned to Sam taking your eyes off Dean's crumpled face. 

"Sam, could you just wait outside in the car for a little bit." You tried to avoid giving an explanation hoping that leaving it vague might eliminate expectations from either one of the Winchester's. 

"Sure." His face no longer looked triumphant. Instead, he was obviously sulking as he slammed the door behind him and went to go wait out in the parking lot. 

You turned your attention back to Dean, waiting to hear what he had to say.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean started to pace the room the moment the door banged shut. He looked wild and the illusion was even greater as he ran his hand restlessly through his hair. Every few seconds he would pause and glance at you. Then he would be back at it, head down and his heavy stomping muffled by the soft carpet. 

Then you realized he was mumbling something. 

"What?" 

You could almost hear the cartoonish squeal as he came to an abrupt halt.

"Why did you leave me?" He looked smaller somehow, in that moment, maybe it was the hunch of his shoulders. This man who always towered over you, not just in height and bulk, but his whole personality was stripped down. 

"Don't pretend this is about me abandoning you," it was hard for you to take this seriously. Dean was so used to his every mistake being forgiven by Sam it was almost as if he no longer believed any of his actions were severe enough to push you away. There was this loyalty between the two of them that bordered on something disastrous. Touching a Winchester, it meant that this somehow extended to you. But you were human, closer to average than either of those boys could ever understand and the ache of watching a lover cheat and beat you was just the type of ordinary circumstance, you could never forgive. 

When you saw him writhing on the bed with that stranger, you knew that there was no going back. It didn't matter to you if he stood there right now and said he was going to change that he would find a way to get you to forgive him, it couldn't undo those decisions. You felt his calloused palm grip your hand, and you didn't jerk away. You knew this was going to hurt but it was time. 

"Dean, I am leaving you. We are done, as of now." Your voice was shaky but you didn't care, it wasn't about pretending that you weren't going to miss him, it was about being an adult and being in charge of your own life. 

"No." It was a plea, not a demand. 

You gripped his hand back, squeezing as hard as you could through the pain. There was so much warmth and you thought about all the things you had discovered about yourself since you became involved with this man. You learned how to be content, with your life, with who you were. He helped you to appreciate the good times in being a hunter, the way you watched new towns unfold on the long car trips listening to some ACDC in the background. Or the way that a family looked when you saved their kid from a vampire. Then there were the times he looked at you like you were special when you dug up something needed on a case or even just the reverence when he turned over towards you in bed in the morning eyes aglow for no other reason than he was waking up next to you. 

In this time alone, it taught you something too. You didn't need him to feel special, or worthy. You knew in looking at him that you deserved better than a man who would ever touch you like that. It didn't matter that Dean had the mark. Even with supernatural circumstances at play, you wouldn't be the type of person who went running back just because being alone was its own challenge. 

"I'm so sorry, I love you." He was searching your face for an answer of how to respond to your certainty. 

You locked your eyes onto his speckled green ones, noticing the way that they faded from the deep green of the forest at night to a light spring green closer to his pupil. He was beautiful in this moment of vulnerability.

"Why are you sorry?" 

You noticed how his eyebrow shot up in confusion, it was obvious you were angry but the simple tone of your question had clearly thrown him off. 

He hesitated, "...because..I hit you." 

"This is the problem Dean, you know what you did was horrible, unthinkable." You continued through the sharpness in your chest, "and yet, you don't mean it when you say you're sorry. It is a means to get me back. You don't understand what an apology actually is anymore." 

He dropped your hand, "I only know that I miss you." 

"Now you know how I feel, I've been missing you for months." You tried to add in a light laugh, wanting it desperately to be a joke when you knew it was just the truth. 

As he turned his back towards you, you studied his frame. The hard lines of his shoulders, fading down into his toned arms, the disgusting bump of red welted flesh that marred his forearm. The tiny imperfection that started all of this in motion. You walked up behind him wrapping your arms around his waist. You wanted to cling to your last memory of him. You didn't want to walk away from this room with your thoughts fresh of the fight in the bunker. You wanted to remember the way he smelled like bar soap and old spice aftershave. You wanted to remember the scratch of his stubble after a few days of not shaving brushing against your cheek. 

This was the Dean you wanted to leave. Not the monster. You wanted it to be because you were ready to leave the man you knew not because you were walking away from something inhuman, something that in other circumstances you would have been hunting.

He turned in your arms, embracing you with a fierceness that said without words just how badly he didn't want to let you go. You nuzzled along his neck. Enjoying the ease of it, the way that it helped to assure you that no matter how hard the choice had been, this closeness didn't cause you any doubts. You let your arms fall, the only way you could think to signify that it was time for him to go. You watched as he walked away from you. By the time he had slumped his way over to the door, your heart was heavy, and as he opened it slowly he paused right on the verge of stepping out to glance back at you. 

"I swear that I am going to find a way to fix us." 

"I know."

You did too. You knew that Dean was the type of man that would never stop trying. That once he was a part of someone's life, he would just keep popping back, until one of you wound up dead. When you heard the snick of the door, you allowed yourself to relax. At the very least you figured that time apart from him would start to heal the gaping hole inside you were the love the two of you shared had suddenly vanished. All you could do now was wait and hope that time would be kind.

Figuring that he was on his way to the impala, most likely having it out with Sam you waited. You knew the younger brother was going to bring you some stuff and you assumed he would want to make sure you were alright. After everything, you were glad that things had ended on good enough terms with Dean that you and Sammy would still be alright. The minutes ticked by and you let yourself drift at the small comforting sounds of motel life, and for the first time in days, you found yourself falling asleep. And you let your eyes fall shut and the darkness took you away.


End file.
